


shape of you

by Pixielle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: DJ Otabek Altin, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Suggestive Themes, Welcome to the Madness, i actually really like chapter 2 of this, i'm surprised i usually don't enjoy my own writing lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-18 10:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10615350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixielle/pseuds/Pixielle
Summary: Victory comes in many forms, and for Yuri Plisetsky, getting his way has always been the ultimate form of victory.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Madness, man. Fuck me up. 
> 
> (There are sexual undertones to this, please do not read if that makes you uncomfortable. Rating is Mature for a reason. Otherwise, enjoy!)

_Last night you were in my room_

_Now my bedsheets smell like you_

_Always discovering something brand new_

_I’m in love with the shape of you._

 

~~~

 

Otabek had been scheduled to make a special guest appearance at the club the night after the GPF Free Skate for months. At the time, he figured it would be a great lighthearted way to shake off the excess anxiety regardless of what happened at the Final and would be a great reset for Worlds.

 

Yuri Plisetsky, however, was something he didn’t, and couldn’t have prepared himself for.

 

Their attachment bloomed incredibly quickly, and Otabek was genuinely proud of the wiry blond for his well deserved win. After Yuri’s incredible record breaking short program (and his self imposed concern over his admittedly imperfect long program), it was obvious Yuri had been put through the emotional wringer more than anyone.

 

/ Y /

 

After the medal ceremony concluded that evening and the press had finally released them all, Yuri broke off from Yakov and the Russian team to join Otabek. Beka had been released an hour or so earlier than the medalists, and all Yuri wanted was some room service pizza and some well deserved peace from Mr. Gratingly Over-Confident and the two lovebirds who both had finally rededicated themselves to competitive skating for another year.

 

Yuri shot a quick text that he was on his way up as he strutted through the lobby towards the elevators, and selected Beka’s floor. Thankfully there were very few people milling around, and he could finally take a breath for what felt like the first time all week.

 

He slid Otabek’s extra keycard through the slide lock until the little LED light flashed green and pushed into the sitting area. Yuri heard the sound of the shower turning off in the bathroom off the bedroom and Beka’s playlist continuing to play at the same volume. The blond took the opportunity to slide behind the door jam and pause, listening for the sound of a doorknob turning.

 

/ O /

 

Otabek toweled off quickly, already behind as the clock ticked over to 10:30. His set started at midnight, it would take at least an hour to get ready and make the 35 minute drive to the club on his bike, and he needed time to hype himself up. He wrapped the towel around his waist for posterity’s sake and opened the door. Otabek started to stride towards the wardrobe on the other side of the room.

 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a bundle of straw blond hair launch at him. The lanky arms attached to said blond hair shoved against his bicep and side as he started wobbling on his feet. He desperately clutched onto the towel around his waist while attempting to maintain his now fleeting balance. Otabek fell sideways then and landed on the nearby sofa huffing in surprise before righting himself. While his “modesty” had been preserved, his pride had not.

 

“Just because you won gold doesn’t mean you get to push me around, Yura”, Otabek puffed lightheartedly. He wasn’t really mad, but he wanted his friend to think about his actions after all that had happened that day.

 

A tinkling yet breathy laugh rang out that contrasted Otabek’s muttering before Yuri opened his mouth to speak, “I wasn’t pushing you around, it was just your friendly neighborhood scare prank.”

 

Yuri moved to lounge casually on the other side of the bed before pausing and turning himself upside down on his back with his head hanging off the edge. He pulled out his phone to return to his natural habitat, Instagram.

 

Otabek shook his head at the sight before heading toward his original goal, the bureau across the room.

 

/ Y /

 

If Yuri was being honest, he wasn’t expecting Otabek to be half ass naked with just a towel on. The hotel provided free robes, and… well. It was what it was by now, and Yuri was proud that he was able to hide his embarrassment until he was in his own space scrolling on SNS.

 

It seemed as though Beka was more distressed by the fact that he had actually scared him than his own lack of dress. In fact, he was currently bent shuffling around the top drawer, left hand still clinging to (read: basically whiteknuckling) his towel before pulling out a small black piece of clothing, which Yuri assumed were boxers. Otabek walked to the open wardrobe on the next wall and grabbed a pair of pants before tugging out half of the sliding french door and stepping behind it.

 

He threw his towel towards the bathroom and dressed quickly, toeing the door closed and started to walk towards the drying rack to Yuri’s left. The blond tilted his eyes up from his phone, expecting to be glad to see that his friend was more appropriately clothed than before, except… there was a slight short circuiting in Yuri’s brain when he noticed that his fly was still down, his trousers left open in his haste to get dressed. The blond froze, and couldn’t help but drag his eyes down Beka’s abs down… to…

 

 _Focus Plisetsky!_   Yuri thought, closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly.  _Why is he rushing around? Can you form words without sounding weird right now? You gotta try something, break this vaguely awkward silence._  

 

Yuri swallowed down the nervous lump in his throat before opening his eyes, and attempted to say, “So what are your plans for tonight, why are you running around worried?” nonchalantly while still staring at his phone. But, with the world against him, his voice cracked slightly on the word worried, and Beka looked over at him with concern.

 

“I’m just running late, I’m not worried yet,” the words rolled off Otabek’s tongue as he looked back towards the rack of clothes, unaware of what was running through Yuri’s head, “my set starts at midnight and I am running out of prep time as we speak.”

 

Otabek pulled the dark dress shirt off of the rack, and turned around AGAIN out of Yuri’s line of sight. He shoved it on and pushed the sleeves up just underneath his elbows while walking towards his phone where it sat plugged into it’s charger.

 

“WAIT! Please wait, just pause for ten seconds!” The younger boy’s voice rang out amongst Otabek's contained chaos and the everpresent backing beat of Otabek’s hype playlist.

 

Otabek finally, blessedly, stood still, and he bent down to pause the music and unplug his phone before turning towards Yuri. Yuri had righted himself, and stood next to the bed where Otabek was.

 

Cocking his head Otabek smirked as much as his stoic expression would allow “What’s up with you, Mr. Gold at his Senior Debut? You have to have some sort of celebration plans tonight?”

 

In that moment, Yuri’s frustration boiled over.

 

“Plans?? Beka, my plan for tonight was eating bad room service pizza with you and rework my exhibition routine after that terrible free skate today but there’s no way in hell that’s happening now,” Yuri spit out, slightly tripping over his words and waving his hands emphatically.

 

“Woah woah woah, what? I think I should be the one telling you to calm down. I’m sorry, Yura, but my appearance at this club was planned nearly six months ago, I can’t just leave them in the dark. Not to mention, I’ve really been…” Otabek stopped in his tracks then, when Yuri’s hand touched his lips.

 

“No no no, there’s nothing for you to apologise about, I get it, previous engagements and hobbies are completely important…” Yuri’s voice trails off then, as he raises his aqua eyes to meet Beka’s.

 

Otabek puffs a tiny breath of relief that Yuri isn’t mad, but recognizes the reluctance at the end of his statement and squeaks out, “But?”

 

“Bu-uuuut, if you’d really like to make it up to me for flaking out without telling me, let me come with and see you DJ! Please?” Yuri realizes that he’s laying it on a little thick by that point, but Yuri Plisetsky can and will try anything to get what he wants.

  


/ O /

  


Otabek pauses and takes a deep breath before responding.

 

“No. There’s no way I’m going to take you to a dance club. Even if I could get you in the back with me, they’d probably card you within ten minutes and you’d get booted immediately.”

 

“But Otabek, dance clubs in Western Europe are 16+, I can pass for 16, if not 18. How can you be so sure that they would kick me out?”

 

“It doesn’t matter what you pass as, you are still a few months shy of 16. The last thing you need as the GPF Barcelona Gold medalist is to be on the front of the skating forums tomorrow morning with pictures of you brawling with a bunch of Spanish bouncers over getting kicked out of a club. The answer is no. Please let me protect you for once.”

 

Yuri’s exasperated sighs hit Otabek’s ears a second too late, and Yuri is stepping even closer to him, “Okay, I trust your judgment, I’m sorry for thinking of putting you in that position. And I appreciate the thought, oh war hardened Kazakh soldier boy, but I don’t need your protection. If anything, I watch out for you more than you know.”

 

Yuri holds his index finger in front of Beka’s face before bringing it down and tapping on the front plane of Otabek’s hip. Otabek’s eyes drop to follow the digit, and his body turns a deep beet red as he realizes how ridiculous what he said earlier seems now. The small cheeky smile on the younger boys face grows to a smirk as Yuri pitches his voice lower for good measure.

  
“Speaking of the skating forums, you might want to actually zip up your pants before you leave, Beka, who knows what type of controversy might spark from us walking out together with you like that.”


	2. Two

Yuri had to get to that club.

  
  
After zipping up his fly and grabbing a backpack, Otabek had rushed out the door, spouting back at Yuri like he was a housewife that "he would be back by 3".

  
  
He wouldn't be waiting until 3 in the damn morning to see Otabek again.

~  
  
Yuri's overall look would be a surprise to Beka, but the tight fitting leather pants he was currently slicking on were actually a recent purchase as they were walking around the Barcelona fashion district before the GPF officially started. Yuri had a feeling that they would come in handy if he finished his alternate EX skate in time, but he hadn’t thought that they’d be used in a situation like this.

  
  
Beka's eyebrows stoically raised at the purchase, but he didn't say anything in particular.  

  
  
Yuri opened up his phone screen and searched for nearby dance clubs. He could probably scratch out the largest club in the area, not to discredit Beka, but he doubted that he would be interested in the electro disco tone of the Barceloneta and his hype playlist had been mostly hard rock and metal.

  
  
Yuri selected the one that he thought was most likely, a smaller club in El Poblenou. If anything, he felt more comfortable in the idea that he would be able to act older and more at a less packed place. Yuri finished up putting on his outfit and grabbed a hair tie from his suitcase on his way out the door.

 

/ O /

 

Otabek had gotten there with just enough time to give his transition playlist over to the current DJ on a USB stick, and run into the back to drop his backpack in the staff room. The owner of the club recognized him and welcomed him warmly, thanking him for coming in after such a turbulent GPF. Otabek assured her and let her know that he had been looking forward to it since they had agreed on his appearance.   


“I don’t get to spin as often as I would want to during competition season, so this is a great way to blow off some pent up stress!” he replied with a courteous smile and thanked her.

 

“Well, you have a teeny bit of time before your set starts, be sure to have some water and run through your list one more time. Thanks again, Otabek! Have a great night, I’ll see you out on the floor,” the bubbly woman smiled once more and left the green room to the sound of a intense guitar solo.

 

 _I think she belongs more at La Barceloneta than here…_ Otabek thought as he grabbed a water bottle from a open cooler filled with ice and a sports drink out of staff fridge.

 

When Otabek was just about to turn 17, he had hosted an event for one of his best friends back in Almaty. Believe it or not, he had actually passed out because he was so dehydrated from sweating, while performing on the hot summer’s night without preparing for it. He chuckled at the memory as he broke the seal on the sports drink. Otabek chugged about half of the salty fruit drink and thought, ‘ _live and learn’._

 

As Otabek took to the booth, he nodded graciously at the opening DJ before him who had just been released for the night. He adjusted his transitional mixer as he started his list. Fortunately the list didn’t call for a ton of offhand freestyle until about a third through it when it got into some of the harder music, he had designed it to ease himself into the groove and tone of the night.

 

He grabbed the metal set of cordless over ear headphones that had been resting around his neck and shoved them on his head, pushing the left side back and placing his right hand on the case of the other can to keep it as close to his head as possible. Watching the levels his first song started flowing in his right ear and he focused in on the job at hand, reminding himself not to bite his lip in concentration.

 

/ Y /

 

Luckily the line outside was short, and Yuri could easily get in with the crowd. He had popped his rarely used sunglasses on before leaving, hoping it would make his face shape look more defined, older, but more than anything to prevent from catching the bouncer’s attention.

 

Yuri stood towards the back minding his own business. He grabbed one of the very few open tables, and lifted himself up onto the the tall stool. He really had little interest in dancing (or moshing, depending on the song) that night. Frankly, his shins and knees were still sore from how he had collapsed on the ice after his free skate. However, he had to finish his mission, watching Otabek.

 

The time was nearing 1:30, and he spotted a short tan woman in a silver sequined skirt cross behind the massive speakers at the front of the club and approached the booth. She moved close to Otabek on his left side, doing what looked like whispering but was probably just speaking at a normal tone over the screech of the current metal track. He leaned in to hear, but his expression didn’t change as he nodded and made eye contact as he repeated something back. She smiled, nodded, and gave him a quick hug before flouncing down from the slightly raised stage.

 

Ever since he had first heard that Beka had DJing as a hobby that first day, which they had come to call the reunion, Yuri had been struck with inspiration. He had been struggling with the design and breakdown choreography of his exhibition program since Lilia had revealed the program components, and they paid him no attention when he voiced his displeasure. It wasn’t that it was a terrible program, for maybe a 27 year old multichampion like old wise Winner Winnerson, but it leant nothing to Yuri as a person. He felt as though there would be no soul to it, no matter how much he perfected the elements.

 

He mastered Agape because of his pure love for his grandpa, his family, for Yuuri and his now close friends from Hasetsu, and the support he got from Yakov, Lilia, and the whole Russian team. And, in the end, he believed that his recently blossomed friendship with Otabek had given him the additional strength necessary to beat Nikiforov’s record. Pure connection with no ulterior motives was something that Yuri hadn’t known that he was craving.

 

He had no doubt that he trusted Otabek, and respected him for caring to maintain his public image. Except, Yuri’s image wasn’t him. Otabek couldn’t have known that at the time, but Yuri’s anger about his self descriptors was deep rooted. He was dismissed as a kitten, soft and sweet. He wanted them to talk about him, he wanted to change how the world viewed him. Not necessarily from a “15 year old gold medalist Yuri Plisetsky spotted at local club kicking bouncer in the nuts for getting kicked out because he was underage” angle, but he wanted to make a statement about his future in competitive skating. His personal vendetta against his self described failure with his free program that day had only kicked it into overdrive.

 

Yuri had been absentmindedly playing with the hem of his shirt as he watched the tone of the club shift. He shoved his sunglasses up into his hair, feeling a bit hypocritical about the offhand rude comment about wearing sunglasses inside he had made to Otabek before Beka had confessed that they had met before. As Yuri dragged his eyes down to the club’s inhabitants in the sunken dance floor line up for a mosh pit, he laughed, bemusing quietly to himself.

 

“Hey beautiful, not one for the dance floor tonight?”

 

Yuri braced himself, he sincerely hadn’t expected this to happen tonight. He turned his face slightly to eye the stranger out of the corner of his eye. He was dark haired man, looking to be in his older 20s. Despite the fact that he had spoken to him in fairly fluent English, he had a thick almost slurred accent. Yuri figured that he was probably native born Spanish. The man really hadn’t been rude, and Yuri didn’t really have the fight in him tonight after the emotional trauma of the GPF.

 

“No way. I finished off a huge competition today, I don’t think I would be able to walk out of _that_ without spraining something,” Yuri said, emphasizing to the mosh pit with a quirk of his eyes towards it.

 

“Oh really? I bet you’re a swimmer! French Nationals just finished in Bordeaux, I think,” the man said enthusiastically and meeting eye contact with Yuri.

 

Yuri paused and leaned back on his stool for a moment, debating his options, “No, I’m not a swimmer. And… please don’t think it rude of me, but I would prefer not to tell you what I participated in because I... kinda won the competition?” Yuri paused to take a short stunted breath at the awkward tone in his delivery before continuing, “So... I’m trying to keep a bit of a low profile here. Not to mention that I legally shouldn’t even be here,” He tacked that last sentence on with a small laugh to try to break some of the tension.

 

“Ah, I see, I didn’t mean to make you nervous, I just figured that maybe you were looking for someone to dance with, no worries” the man said, still smiling intimidatingly while miming lifting glasses from in front of his eyes to the top of his head.

 

“Oh no, me taking off my glasses, that wasn’t a signal! I’m actually here to watch someone perform tonight, and it’s a bit complicated at the moment, I wouldn’t want to lead you on! I’m sorry if I confused you.” The words tumbled out of Yuri’s mouth with a small friendly attempt at a grin that became a grimace as he realized that the dude was actually probably harmless.

 

“Well, thank you for being so polite about this, **_joven_ **. I hope everything works out with them,” the unnamed man replied with an even broader smile as he started backing away from the table, “Have a lovely rest of your night.”

 

 _‘How lucky that guy wasn’t aggressive. But… maybe he was a little too understanding?’_ Yuri pondered that unseriously in his mind as he slipped his sunglasses back down over his eyes, content to avoid that interaction again at any cost.

 

Yuri truly just watched Otabek for a few minutes as he moved over the equipment amassed over the surface of the booth like it was the easiest thing in the world to master. Yuri settled in to enjoy the rest last bit of Otabek’s set.

 

/ O /

 

Otabek had spotted Yuri as soon as he saw the straw blond hair bounce out from the sea of dark brown and black. He was concerned for him, of course, but when he saw Yuri sit down at a table at the back, he calmed down. Obviously Yura had listened to him, despite the fact that he had disobeyed his wishes, and it looked like he was content to just sit and observe for once. Thank goodness. Otabek refocused his attention on his mixer as the current song came to an end, and he caught the transition into the next track just in time.

 

The night had mostly gone off without a hitch, and Otabek was proud of the reception and tone that he has maintained throughout the night. He had very little experience with rock clubs going in, and it made him happy to see that he had done a good job. However, the clock was ticking down, getting close to 2 AM, when it required him to give a final song warning to close out the club.

 

Otabek grasped at the small microphone to the right of the booth. He brought the musical level down to a quiet background level and flipped the small ON/OFF rocker on the bottom. “Last call, final song!” he called out in both English and Spanish (that the owner had supplemented about three quarters of the way through his set), before scanning the crowd. He spotted Yuri again, still at his table as he lifted his sunglasses back up into his hair for the second time that night. He switched to Russian for the last sentence “This last song goes out for the punk... with the eyes of a soldier.” Otabek pointedly look directly at Yuri in the eyes at the end of his sentence. A small smirk crossed his lips at the look of surprise on the blond’s face. _‘Obviously he thought he wasn’t gonna get caught.’_

 

Otabek waved over a bouncer that was standing at the front of the club near him to mind the booth as he pulled off his headphones. He wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve, and jumped down off of the little stage, and started his walk towards the back avoiding the dance floor.

 

/ Y /

 

The song ripped through the air, it’s driving electric guitar and shrill vocals feeling almost like bad 80s hair metal, but somehow that worked for Yuri. He watched Otabek after he had declared it to be for him, and changed quickly from the slight shock that he had been found out to chagrin at how cheesy that declaration was.

 

“This is such a great song to get dedicated to yourself,” Yuri said, a slight teasing tone in his voice as Beka finally made his way to Yuri’s table, taking his hand after sitting down at the stool to his left “You might have to have you send me this file tonight, I have a feeling it would be great for something I’m planning.”

 

“Will do, and congrats on getting what you wanted out of tonight. Sans that bad pizza, of course. Thank you for not causing a scene, seeing you sit down instead of getting into a mess of trouble was a smart move. And definitely calmed me down versus discovering you in the pit,” Otabek said with a light chuckle.

 

“I might have gotten to watch you DJ, which was educational, but I could have done without that weirdo asking about what I do for a living,” Yuri pondered the situation, a slight disdain at the awkward memory in his voice, “Did you happen to catch a glimpse of him when he came up to me?”

 

“No, after you sat down back here I didn’t worry to much about it and went back to the music. What happened?” Otabek said with a note of concern to his response, rubbing his thumb over Yuri’s hand comfortingly.

 

“It really wasn’t that bad, I’m over exaggerating. I’m a little concerned that he may have known who I was because he only came over after I pushed my glasses away from my face. And then acted like I was putting out signals that I wanted him to invite me to dance. Just gave off a weird vibe that I couldn’t place.”

 

“You’re totally right, that was a bit odd, I wish I would have caught that while it was going on,” Beka said as he turned to look Yuri in the eyes again.

 

“No, no worries, Beka, I really am super happy about tonight! You did great, and I finally got my Exhibition routine finished from the inspiration. But I need some help with that, if you don’t mind. I can fill you in on my plans when we get back to the hotel?” Yuri said as small yawn that he had been holding filtered out the side of his mouth.

 

“Of course, let me just go grab my bag from the back. It’ll be just a minute!”

 

The club was mostly empty at that point, just a few stragglers talking in the corners, likely making plans about where to go next. As Otabek slid down off the stool he leant over and placed a small peck onto Yuri’s jaw, he gave him a little smile before jogging off towards the staff room.

 

Yuri’s smile was a bit delayed because of the surprise, but he still felt a bit silly sitting there with the grin on his face. He too slid down off of his stool and walked over towards the entrance, pulling out his phone to finish off his list of choreography elements as he waited for Otabek.

 

~

 

“Well, I guess my hunch was correct, but not quite in the way I expected” Yuri said as he looked down at his phone and picked at his room service, a traditional Spanish breakfast of eggs poached in a spicy tomato sauce.

 

“What’s up?” Otabek said from the bathroom around a mouthful of toothpaste.

 

“Oh nothing too crazy, evidently someone in that club last night recognized you and posted a video of you DJing on SNS and then that same person must have seen you walk over to me at the end of the night. Just regular drama.”

 

“Damn, I thought we got away with it scot free,” Otabek said as he sat down and picked up a piece of buttered toast, “I don’t think anyone will be too shocked about you being spotted in a dance club, you just won gold. Maybe a little weirded out by the fact that you didn’t do anything wrong or angry or aggressive.”

 

“Well I’m turning over a new leaf! And you’re going to help me, just like we choreographed it last night, cantilever spread and all.” Yuri said emphatically with a huge grin at Otabek.

 

“Let’s really give them something to talk about.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at a multichaptered fic in years! It happened to coincide with when my Internet went out so I actually finished it lol. Hope you enjoyed this little lighthearted piece, it felt nice to just write when inspired! Thanks so much for reading! ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! I do plan on finishing up the clubbing plot inspired by director Yamamoto's most recently revealed details released from PASH magazine surrounding Welcome to the Madness (and the night after the GPF between Otabek and Yurio). I'm not sure yet if the rating will go up yet or not, we'll see how comfortable I'm feeling with my writing abilities when I get into it.
> 
> This really came into being because of a really inspiring video edit by Pteryx that made me absolutely swoon when I saw it! I've actually watched it an embarrassingly large amount of times whilst writing this fic for "inspiration", haha. Because I'm not creative in the least, that's where the title of this fic also comes from ^_^ https://youtu.be/7SpSz_4HMms
> 
> Oh, and last thing, come yell with me about Yurio (and Yuri on Ice, I guess lol) on the socials! Pixielle22 on Twitter, Pixielle on Tumblr.


End file.
